


Come as You Are

by anehan



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Light Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-03 22:22:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anehan/pseuds/anehan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niou concocts a plan to find out whether Atobe likes him or his ability to be other people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come as You Are

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was a gift for sagely_sea in the 2013 Tenipuri Cross School Exchange. Many thanks to tofsla for the beta.

Atobe Keigo. Beautiful, talented, and arrogant as hell. Obsessed with beating Tezuka, Yukimura, Sanada, and a host of other top players in tennis. He was also Masaharu's boyfriend and was currently fast asleep between his expensive cotton sheets, which had a thread count so high that Masaharu's own sheets at home felt scratchy and coarse in comparison. Sprawled on the bed, the sheet that was covering him not doing a very good job of it, Atobe looked relaxed and sated. Masaharu's breath caught in his throat at the picture he presented.

Two months ago, Masaharu had played Hyoutei's Oshitari in a finals match at the Nationals and, imitating none other than Atobe, had scraped a narrow victory. Then he had watched Atobe win against Sanada, securing Hyoutei's victory. The loss had been keenly felt by everyone at Rikkai – everyone, that is, except Masaharu. He had had other things to think about.

Atobe had surreptitiously beckoned for Masaharu to follow him, and it had been accompanied by such a darkly intent look that Masaharu had felt compelled to comply with the order. There, around the corner from where the rest of the players were milling, Atobe had kissed him roughly before telling him to come to his home that evening.

Masaharu had complied, and that had been that.

After that, Atobe had been less forceful. He had treated Masaharu with attention and courtesy, so that sometimes Masaharu felt a little bit like a girl. Being ordered around had made something hot and thrilling curl in his belly; being treated like a girl did nothing for him except make him frothing mad. Mad, and unable to do anything about it.

For Masaharu had a secret, and that secret was that he was absolutely terrified of Atobe leaving him. Atobe was everything that was gorgeous and confident. He was good at just about everything he put his mind to. He was also filthy rich. And Masaharu – well, Masaharu was moderately good at tennis and history, had a rat's nest of a hair (which he rather liked but which looked distinctly out of place in Atobe's home), and apparently had the self-confidence of a rabbit.

The likes of Atobe did not go for the likes of Masaharu.

Atobe seemed to like to fuck Masaharu when he was being someone else. The first time they'd fucked, Masaharu had been Sanada. After that, not a week had gone by when he hadn't pretended to be someone else: Tezuka, Yukimura, Shiraishi, Tachibana, once even Atobe himself, which Atobe had pronounced the weirdest experience of his life.

A plan began to take shape inside Masaharu's head. It was perhaps stupid, and it would make him a target of Sanada's wrath should he ever find out, not mention what Yukimura would do if he found out about Masaharu's plans for his precious Sanada. But it would at least tell him whether Atobe liked _him_ or his ability to be other people.

That decided, sleep finally claimed Masaharu.

* * *

The next morning, Masaharu excused himself from Atobe's company and ostensibly headed home. In reality, he doubled back and followed Atobe to the street court where some Hyoutei third years had arranged to meet now that Nationals were over and they no longer were part of the tennis club. He waited until they were wrapping up their games before walking over in Sanada's form.

"Sanada," Oshitari said, which made Atobe to turn over and look at Masaharu.

"Might I speak with you alone for a moment, Atobe?" Masaharu asked, his heart thudding in his chest. _Please, please, don't recognise me_ , he pleaded silently, while maintaining Sanada's impassive expression.

Atobe shrugged. "Why not? You go on, I'll catch up with you," he said to his friends. When they were gone, Atobe turned back to Masaharu. "What can I do for you, Sanada?"

"It concerns Niou," Masaharu said.

"Niou?" Atobe looked surprised. "I hope there isn't anything wrong?"

"Not... as such," Masaharu answered. "I merely wondered, what do you think of him?"

"Think of him?" Atobe was looking at him with a weird expression. "He's my boyfriend. What should I think of him?"

"Ah, nothing special. Just..." he trailed off. "Oh, to hell with it," he said and kissed Atobe.

Atobe's lips were still and unresponsive under his. Then Atobe gently disengaged from the kiss.

"I already have a boyfriend," he said. "I'm sorry, Sanada."

Then he was gone.

* * *

So, Atobe wasn't interested in Sanada. Good, that was one person that Masaharu didn't need to worry about. But what about Tezuka? Atobe desperately wanted to play with Tezuka again, now that Tezuka had gone pro and wasn't part of the high school tennis circuit. And the same went for Yukimura. Also, what about Tachibana or Shiraishi? Even Fuji was a stronger tennis player than Masaharu was.

There was nothing he could do about Yukimura or Shiraishi, but Tezuka was apparently visiting his parents, and Tachibana and Fuji lived in Tokyo. Masaharu resolved to try again, this time with more subtlety.

Whether he wasn't subtle enough in his seduction of Atobe or whether Atobe really wasn't interested in Tezuka or Fuji or Tachibana either was something that Masaharu couldn't make heads or tails of, but the fact was that all his experiments failed. Every time he managed to kiss Atobe or otherwise indicate his interest, he was met with the same "I've already got a boyfriend" response.

He was mulling over the implications, sprawling on his bed in the privacy of his own room, when there was a knock on his door. Somehow the knock seemed to sound imperious. Certainly it didn't sound like the knock of any of his family members.

"Come in," he called.

The door opened and revealed Atobe.

"Oh, hi. I didn't know you were coming over," he said.

"Neither did I, but I wanted to see you," Atobe said and closed the door. He looked at Masaharu intensely, before coming over and perching on the corner of Masaharu desk.

"I'm going to get straight to the point," he said. "In the past week, I've been kissed by no less than four tennis players my age. You wouldn't have anything to do with it, would you, Niou?"

"How should I have anything to do with what people get up to in their free time?" Niou answered, feigning flippancy. Fear gripped his heart. He had thought about what would happen if Sanada or Yukimura found out what he'd done. He hadn't thought about what Atobe would do .

Atobe's voice was deceptively soft. "Come now, Niou. Surely you don't expect me to believe that Sanada, Tezuka, Fuji and Tachibana have all been carrying a torch for me, all of them deciding to act on their crushes within such a short space of time."

Masaharu closed his eyes. It was all over now, he was sure of it. Atobe had found out, and he'd leave Masaharu. A sob threatened to break free, and Masaharu bit his lip to stop it.

Suddenly, a hand brushed Masaharu's hair off his brow. Masaharu's eyes flew open, and he found himself staring at Atobe's inscrutable face. He hadn't heard Atobe come over to his bed at all, so immersed had he been in his own misery.

Atobe's gaze softened. "Why, Niou? Why did you do it?"

Masaharu turned his head away, but Atobe grasped his chin gently and turned his head back.

"Look at me, Niou," he said, and Masaharu was helpless to resist the command that was at the same time soft and implacable. "Tell me."

Masaharu closed his eyes again and muttered. "I don't want to feel like a girl."

Atobe was silent for a moment. "Like a girl?"

Masaharu opened his eyes and glared at Atobe. "Yes, like a girl. You treat other players like they are worthy of your attention and personality, but I'm like a doll to you. You treat me like I'm fragile and to be protected, and you only become forceful in bed when I'm being someone else. Am I not worthy of you, Atobe? Do you think I'm so weak that I can't take the force of your personality?"

By the end of his tirade, Masaharu's voice had risen in pitch, and he was having trouble keeping it quiet enough to avoid his mother hearing.

Atobe was completely still. Then he exhaled and said, "Forceful, huh? You want me to be forceful?"

Masaharu blushed. Trust Atobe to pick that up. Masaharu hadn't planned on telling Atobe how hot being ordered around made him feel, but now it was out in the open, and he couldn't take it back. He raised his chin and looked at Atobe defiantly.

Then Atobe began to speak, slowly and softly. "I have wanted to tie you spread-eagled to my bed even before you were there the first time as yourself. I have wanted to kiss you so that your lips bruise and mark you as my own. I have wanted your passion and your fire, and the only times I've seen them have been when you've been someone else." He paused for a few seconds and swallowed. "And the only time I can forget my desire to own you has been when you've been someone else, because then I haven't felt the all-consuming passion that I feel when you're yourself. If I've treated you like you're fragile, it is because I was afraid you would not want to be owned."

They stared at each other for long moments, before Atobe spoke again. "I see now that I have been mistaken. I should never have allowed you to be anyone else in my bed. From now on, you will come to my bed as yourself. I don't care who you pretend to be when you play tennis or when you prank someone, but in my bed, you're going to be you. Do I make myself clear?"

Masaharu's breath hitched, and he looked at Atobe with wide eyes. Then he nodded once.

"Good," Atobe said. "Now I want you to come with me to Tokyo for the weekend. We have a lot to discuss. Among other things."

A smile flickered across Atobe's mouth, and he bent to whisper into Masaharu's ear. "After all, you have not experienced ore-sama's full magnificence yet, and that must be rectified."

That surprised a laugh out of Masaharu, and Atobe smirked in satisfaction.

* * *

In the kitchen, Atobe asked Masaharu's mother for the permission for Masaharu to spend the weekend in Tokyo.

"Everything is all right between you two again, then?" she asked, and Masaharu wanted for the ground to open up below him.

However, Atobe just laughed. "Yes, it's all right. Or, it will be."

And as Atobe led him out of the door, he reflected that, yes, everything was going to be all right. He wasn't fool enough to think that everything was suddenly going to be butterflies and roses, but he thought they had made a good start in talking about their relationship.

And beside, as Atobe turned to him in the back seat of his chauffeured car and kissed him, it didn't hurt that the butterflies seemed to have taken residence in his stomach. He was looking forward to experiencing Atobe's magnificence tonight, and to judge by Atobe's smirk, Atobe knew that as well.


End file.
